


Bygones

by Akamaimom



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akamaimom/pseuds/Akamaimom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's a man of few words. Sam, however, wants to hear a couple of specific ones - at least once. It takes another woman to help her understand just how her husband communicates. Fluffy angst? Flangst? Unabashed romantic stuff. Sweet and simple. If Sam/Jack isn't your thing, then this story probably isn't for you. :-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bygones

Bygones

 

Not really angst, not really fluffy, this one can’t be easily categorized. It’s just a little story about those things that married people work through.

That, and I’ve always wondered how a conversation between these two women would go.  
I’ve always liked Kerry. I believe that Sam would, too.  
(Can’t say the same about Jack and Pete. Yikes.)

 

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-

He'd made her toast.

A little darker than other people liked it, buttered after it had cooled so that it didn't get soggy. It had taken him a while to get the sugar to cinnamon ratio just right, but now that he'd perfected the combination, he pre-mixed the condiments and put them into a glass shaker like they used in diners. He was applying a light dusting to the toast as she hurried into the kitchen.

"You're going to be late." His tousled hair bore testament to the fact that he'd just gotten up, as well. "Those Senate people are huge shrubs about that kind of thing."

"I know." She sighed, maneuvering around the outermost chair at the table and placing her satchel on the counter next to her breakfast. "I'll catch a cab. That way I won't have to find parking."

"I've already called one for you." He set a banana on the counter next to a bottle of water. "It should be here in ten minutes or so."

"Thanks, Jack."

"No problem." Reaching behind him, he opened the fridge, withdrawing a carton of milk. Grabbing a glass out of the adjacent cabinet, he toed the door of the fridge closed before turning back towards the island. "What time are you supposed to be done? Four-ish, right?"

"Last testimony's scheduled for two-fifteen, so, yeah. Probably."

He handed her the plate with the toast on it, along with the glass of milk. Next to the toast, her prenatal vitamin rolled wonkily around until it settled just under the crust of the bread. "So, I'll meet you. We'll catch some dinner and head home."

Accepting her breakfast, Sam sat at the table, placing her plate and cup on the smooth surface. As she picked up her toast, her husband swiped his hands on a towel and made his way around the kitchen island towards where she sat. 

"I've got to get ready, Sam." Leaning down he pressed his lips the top of her head, then angled another kiss to her cheek, his fingers stroking the delicate spot at the back of her neck, just below her tight chignon. "See you later."

"Mmm-kay." Sam nodded, watching him as he headed towards the stairs. "Hey, Jack?"

He paused, his hand on the stair railing, peering back at her. "Yeah?"

"I love you." 

It took a few steps for him to get back to her side, and only a breath for him to bend and angle her face upwards with a hand behind her head. Nose to nose, he perused her features intently before dipping down to leisurely tease at her lips with a lingering kiss. Straightening, he waggled his brows at her before once again stepping towards the stairs. "Sam?"

"Yeah, Jack?"

"Me too."

 

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-

 

"Well, this is a new look for you."

Attempting to turn towards the voice, Sam stumbled over another patron's foot, jerking back upright with a grace resemblant that of a three-legged rhinoceros. She caught herself before tumbling over completely, but not before the liquid in the disposable cup she held sloshed over the edge, burning the tender skin between her thumb and forefinger. Mumbling a curse, she switched the cup into her other hand and shook the reddening one in an effort to remove the remaining droplets of hot tea. 

"I'm sorry I startled you." Dark curls bounced around a pretty face as the woman shot her an apologetic look. "Is it hurt badly?"

"No." Peeping up at her quasi-companion from beneath a fringe of blond bangs, Sam offered a small smile. "I mean - it's nothing. I've had worse."

"Yes." The newcomer's full mouth relaxed into a knowing grin. "I know."

A quick perusal at her hand told Sam that the damage was minimal, and she took another moment to reach towards the little condiment rack beside her to grab a lid for her cup. "I don't know why they give it to you without the lid. Does anyone order a 'to-go' cup and not want a top for it?"

"I hear you." The other woman watched as Sam fit the lid to her cup and then pressed it tight. "Maybe it's a time-saving thing?"

"Probably just a cheap-ass one."

A low, sexy laugh broke through the noise of the crowd around them. "Now you sound like Jack."

Sam raised her cup again, bracing against the jostling she got when a few other early-risers brushed past her on their way to order at the kiosk. She used that moment to appraise the woman standing next to her. It had been a few years, but Kerry Johnson was still the vibrant, beautiful woman that Sam had first met on Jack's patio in the Springs. She'd even been wearing a similar color of coral as she was now, only today's silk shell beneath the well-tailored gray jacket was a far cry from the more casual wrap-around blouse from their first meeting. With far, far less cleavage. Sam had an almost unnaturally clear recollection of that day - right down to the wood grain on the bowl Kerry had been holding and the smell of the carbonized meat on the hibachi. Right down to the feel of her heart imploding and turning to stone.

She pushed back at the steely barbs that always threatened at her soul whenever she recalled that day. That meeting. The moment she'd known that Jack had moved on, and that she had been ten kinds of fool for thinking that Pete was her future. So much time had been lost - so many moments. Sam had mentioned it to Jack several months before, when they were still coming to grips with the concept of an additional O'Neill in the works. He'd merely trailed his fingers along her cheek and mumbled something about not dwelling on the past. 

Jack could compartmentalize things like that. Leave things when they were over and done. He'd had to, she knew, from his earliest days in the Military when he'd performed actions that, quite frankly, would have driven him mad otherwise. She'd never asked particulars, although she knew most of the basic points. And, of course, she knew what he'd done while with the SGC. But he'd been able to shove those nightmares away, too. Sam hadn't. Even now, she tended to focus, analyze, and fret about things long-since done. People, places, and things that had been left behind, undone, unsaved. 

Yanking her attention back to Agent Johnson, Sam attempted a smile as she drummed up a response to the other woman's remark. "Do I?"

Kerry's cheeks dimpled further. "I'm told that's to be expected of people who spend so much time together."

"Mmmm." Sam felt herself nod. She hadn't meant to acknowledge that much, still unsure.

"And you two have obviously been spending a decent amount of time together." The CIA analyst's eyes dipped towards Sam's burgeoning belly. "I'd heard, but hadn't quite processed it."

Without intending to, Sam fitted her free hand to her abdomen. "I kind of feel the same way."

"So, this wasn't originally in the plan?"

"Oh. So not." The Colonel's eyes widened. "There was no plan."

"You've got to admit, though, that the fashion's to die for."

Glaring down at her maternity garb, Sam sighed. She'd chosen the best of the Air Force maternity uniforms she'd been able to find. Today it was a knee-length navy-blue skirt and a blouse that billowed over her abdomen from pleats at the shoulder. "Well, I'm kind of limited as to my choices. So, I can either look like I'm Amish in the big blue jumper thing, or I can look like I'm wearing a tent. And I’ve never been much for farming, or churning butter."

"Designed by men, probably." Frowning in a wry attempt at commiseration, Kerry lifted a large leather briefcase from a chair next to her, lowering the strap to her shoulder as she grasped the cup that sat near it. "Regardless, you still make 'pregnant' look good. Where are you heading?"

"I've got a meeting in the Hart building."

"We're not far." She gestured towards the sidewalk with a free elbow and a toss of her head. "I'll walk you."

They had similar strides. Even with the added burden of the pregnancy, Sam still made good time on foot. A nurse at the obstetrician's office had told her she wouldn't struggle as much as a shorter woman would with balance and movement issues, since the baby 'had room to stretch out' - whatever that meant - but Sam had suspected that the real advantage lay in the fact that she'd spent the last ten years of her life lugging packs, body armor, and weaponry through Jaffa-infested forests. 

It had been great practice for carrying the little interloper around all the time.

But still. It was hard not to notice Kerry's perfect little rear end as she weaved through the maze of human traffic outside the kiosk, or the analyst's lithe form as she angled through a pair of flashing barricades at a construction zone. However proud Sam was of her own hard-fought efforts to remain physically fit during this pregnancy, it was tough at this moment, walking behind the slim form of her husband's ex-girlfriend, not to feel just a little 'less-than'.

"It's a cluster around here lately." Kerry had paused, allowing Sam to gain the necessary ground so that they walked side-by-side on the now-clear walkway. "A water main burst a week or so ago, and they've had streets torn up ever since."

"I was here when that happened, actually. It was a mess." Sam took in the chaos around her, before glancing over at Ms. Johnson. "I've been doing some consulting for Homeworld Security since I came back."

To Earth. That part didn't need to be stated out loud for Kerry to understand. 

"I was kind of surprised that you took that last assignment."

On the Hammond. That didn't need to be iterated, either. Listening ears, and all that. 

The Colonel tilted her head to one side, mulling her answer. "It was a good opportunity. My own command - new ship. That sort of thing doesn't happen very often."

"And you were perfect for the position. Just as you were ideal for your previous assignment. I was involved in the meetings where we discussed possible replacements for Weir."

Sam's features shuttered. "Meetings?"

Kerry flashed a glance at Sam. "With Homeworld Security. I've been working with them off and on since I left Cheyenne Mountain."

"So, first with General Hammond, and then with - "

Expression purposefully bland, the dark-haired woman looked down at her feet and then back up. Cautiously. "With Jack."

"Oh."

The analyst's pace slowed somewhat. "That's not a problem, is it?"

Sam's response was honest, if not a little too quick. "Of course not. Why would it be?"

"I was the one that suggested you initially." Kerry shoved her hair behind her ear, squeezing a look at Sam out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't know if you knew that."

Carter counted a few strides before answering. "I didn't, actually."

Frowning, Kerry bobbled her cup to her other hand, leaning in conspiratorially. "Not that I was trying to get rid of you. It kind of sounds like it, but I wasn't. Wouldn't that be a kick, though? Most women would love to be able to send the girl that replaced them off on a long-term mission to another galaxy."

Sam mentally chewed on that for a while before venturing forth. "I was under the impression that you broke up with him."

Kerry grinned. "Oh, I did. In his office, actually. I told him he needed to retire and marry you. It was very civil."

Sam stepped around a parking meter, angling her body with care. Clearing it, she looked over to see that Kerry had paused, waiting for her.

"I actually think he was kind of relieved."

Sam approached her, stopping directly in front of her. "Relieved? Really?"

"Well, Colonel Carter." Kerry's winsome face eased into a knowing kind of intimacy. "You know how Jack is - he's an old fashioned guy. Very - chivalrous. He and I had made some deals when we started seeing each other. Keep things private, go slow. Don't let it interfere with our working relationship. He made it clear up front what his expectations were. That he wouldn't make any demands, but that I shouldn't expect anything from him except for his full attention while we were dating."

"He said that?"

"Not in so many words." Kerry glanced up at an office building, buying time to formulate and answer, perhaps. "It was implied, really. But he wanted it to be mutual, and exclusive."

"That sounds like him, actually."

"I know. The man doesn't say things."

"No, he doesn't." Sam thought about earlier that morning, when she'd told him she loved him, and she'd been stung that he hadn't responded as she'd wanted. He wasn't the kind of man to express his feelings verbally - she'd known that from the beginning. And truly, she was okay with how things were. She knew that he loved her. That he cared for her. The fact that he'd never once actually said the words shouldn't matter so much, right? But somewhere, niggling at the back of her heart, was the thought that she'd like to hear it. Just once. 

Sam breathed in the sigh that threatened, covering more with a sip of her tea. More to herself than to her companion, she continued. "He can talk for days about hockey, or about tires for his truck, or about upgraded optic sight groups for his P-90. But the man never wants to discuss anything that's important."

"He's more a doer than a talker, if that makes sense."

Sam channeled her inner Valley Girl. "Totally."

"Right? So, anyway, after the thing happened at the house that day, and you got the call." She returned her gaze to the Colonel, serious, now, all lightness gone. "After you left. It was like he'd just - checked out. He was gone. I'd lost him in that one instant."

Sam waited, unsure what she was even supposed to say to that.

Kerry blithely strove on. "So, he packed up and went to the SGC, and I just knew."

"Knew what?" Sam adjusted her grip on her tea, biting back more questions.

"The way he looked at you. Like he wanted to take you to his heart and shelter you against the world." Kerry breathed a sad little laugh. "It was beyond what I'd ever seen anyone feel towards anyone else. My parents have been married for 47 years, ridiculously in love, but I'd never seen them look at each other the way that man looked at you."

Sam ducked her chin, biting back the smile that beckoned.

"And I knew that he'd try for my sake. That's how I knew that he at least cared for me a little. He did things. Got my favorite cereal, knew what drink I liked. When I was cold. Things like that." Kerry fixed on a point beyond Sam's right shoulder, remembering. "I knew that he'd keep on doing it all because he's a gentleman and wouldn't want to hurt my feelings."

"But that wasn't good enough for you."

Kerry's brows rose, and she used a finger to nudge Sam's arm. "Would it have been enough for you?"

Pete's cute, genial face flashed in her mind, and Sam scrunched her nose, remembering. It hadn't been - not even remotely. She'd tried, going through the motions, trying to be someone that she wasn't. In the end, the falseness had nearly eaten through her. It had taken her father's last breaths to convince her that she deserved more. That she could have true love and not some cheap facsimile of it. And honestly, she'd needed to admit that Pete deserved a woman who would love him completely - one who wouldn't reserve a huge part of her heart for someone else. "No. Absolutely not."

On some unspoken signal, they began to walk again. Maybe a bit more slowly than before. 

Kerry took a sip of her coffee, pushing her curls behind her ear as she swallowed. "Sorry you asked?"

Sam shook her head. "No, actually."

"Good." Another sip, another pause as the analyst worked into her next thought. "I've gotta say, though, I am kind of jealous."

"Oh?" Sam pressed her lips together, unsure of what was coming. 

"When Jack and I were - together - he made no bones about the fact that he wasn't wanting this." Kerry gestured vaguely towards Sam, her eyes pausing on the healthy swell beneath the Colonel's blouse. "I'd been hoping that, if things progressed further, maybe . . ." her voice trailed off into a shrug. "Tick-tick, you know? Freaking biological clock."

Raising her cup to her lips prevented Sam from having to answer. 

Kerry seemed to understand her silence. She continued, her dark eyes bright. "But I wasn't right. And that's okay, because I'm with someone now who is."

A real smile crossed Sam's features, and she angled a look at her companion. "Really? That's great. I'm so happy for you."

"Yeah." Kerry nodded. "Me too. He's really funny, and nice, and super good in - well, you know."

Sam did. Her smile turned into a grin. "Hey - that's important stuff."

"Indeed, it is, Colonel Carter." Biting her lip, she stopped, waiting for Sam to follow suit and turn towards her. "And he's not in love with someone else. So, there's that."

Sam inhaled deeply, then regretted it, the city air still wreaked havoc on her sensitive nose and stomach. Clenching her jaw, she fought the rush of nausea, and then took a bracing sip of tea. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about how things happened. It was - difficult to get to a point where we could be honest about things. People got hurt, and neither of us feel good about that."

Kerry's nod was understanding, and somehow absolving. She took several steps before speaking again. "I'm glad that we met up today. I've been wanting to talk to you for a while, now. I don't know why, exactly. I just had a feeling that you might want to know how it was. It's not often that you get the story from someone who's on the outside. I mean, I was on the inside - but I never had a chance. Once he knew. Once he was sure what he wanted. Once he recognized - things. When it all finally came crashing down, and he was able to make decisions."

"We both were, really." Sam looked sideways at the analyst. "It wasn't just his choice to make. Not his fault, you know?"

"I do." Kerry gestured at Sam with her cup. "But he was yours from the beginning, Sam. He's always been yours."

It was the pregnancy, Sam told herself. Hormones playing games with her emotions. She'd never been a schmaltzy person, and yet here she was, fighting back a surge of something coming from somewhere precariously near her heart. She blinked several times, angling her face away from the pretty woman at her side.

"And he's happy. I've been working with him for ages, now, and I've never seen him like this. He's found peace, or something. Like he's finally at a point where he's not haunted anymore. And I know this is weird, coming from his ex-girlfriend, and you and I have never had much to do with each other, so it's awkward, but I've just got to tell you, if I didn't respect you so much, and if I didn't appreciate Jack and recognize the kind of guy he is. If I didn't know what you'd been through - how much you'd missed." She trailed off, slowing again, forcing Sam to stop, and turn at look at her.

"If I didn't know all that, and if I didn't know that you'd saved the world a few dozen times. And if I didn't know that you were a freaking amazing woman," Dark hair tickling around her pretty face, Kerry narrowed her eyes, her expressive mouth curving upwards in a show of sisterly solidarity. "If I didn't know all that, I'd hate you just a little, teensy, tiny bit."

 

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-

 

"I know what you wanted." He'd spoken into the dark, from the next pillow over. 

Moonlight spilled in through the open window on the far side of the room, allowing Sam to see part of his face, and his shoulder where it rose out of the bedding. Her meetings at the Hart Building had run late, and after snagging dinner at a local deli, all she’d wanted to do was to fall into bed.

So, they had.

"What?"

"Earlier. This morning." He lay still, as if he were uncertain. "I know what you wanted me to say."

"I'm not - "

"When you told me you loved me."

Ah. Sam pressed her cheek more firmly against her pillow, focusing her gaze on his shoulder, and the somewhat meatier muscles there. He'd lost a lot of the leanness he'd had when they'd first met. Grown a little softer, a little broader. Sexier, if truth be known, but Sam wouldn't admit that out loud. If she did, he'd make immediate room in the fridge for cake, and that would thoroughly negate all the maternity yoga and pilates classes she'd been doing. "Oh. That."

"I'm not a words kind of guy." He lifted a hand to rest in the space between their pillows. Perhaps it was a barrier, perhaps it was an invitation. "I've never been comfortable just - saying - stuff like that."

"I know, Jack." Sam reached up and laid her hand near his, close enough that her pinky overlapped his. "It's okay."

"It's not, really." He sighed. "I thought about it all day. How you might not actually know - "

Her interruption was soft, but sure. "I know."

"Do you?" His brows rose, and he readjusted his head on the pillow to be able to see her better. "I was trying to remember if I'd ever actually told you."

She grinned. "You haven't, actually. But I still know."

His face relaxed into a Don Juan sort of self-satisfaction. "Well, I must admit that I do have some mad skills."

"Oh, yeah. I've seen those skills."

His free hand made its way to rest on the fullness of her abdomen. "Well, obviously."

She snorted. "Your skills have landed us in a bit of trouble lately."

He shifted again, lifting his head to rest on his crooked arm. "Is that all bad?"

"No." She shook her head slowly, deliberately. "It's not."

"Then there you are." His thumb made a slow, easy circle on her belly, just below her rib cage. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that."

Sam stretched, angling her body against the ministrations of his hand. The house lay still around them, broken only by the muffled sounds of traffic that made its way from the street out front. Sometimes, she missed the gentle quiet of the Springs, where one was more likely to hear birds or kids than cars, or the cicadas that nested in the trees outside the house she'd inherited from her father. 

But she'd never lived in either place with him, with her husband, with this man who completed her. So, either place had really been home. She'd deal with the noise in order to live with the man.

"I know, Jack." She touched his cheek with her fingertips. "I was actually talking about it today with Kerry."

His hand stopped. "Kerry?"

"Johnson. CIA Analyst. Part of the Homeworld Security team." She tried not to smile. "You know, you and she used to slee - "

"Yeah." His voice actually cracked. "Kerry. Kerry Johnson."

"I ran into her at that kiosk on Third Street. Near Stanton Park."

"Oh?"

"You know, I really like her." Sam squinted through the darkness at her husband, who had paled. "She was there getting coffee, and I was getting my chamomile, and she walked me to the Hart Building."

"Really?"

"She's nice, Jack." Sam allowed her hand to stray from his jaw downward until she feathered a touch on his shoulder, her thumb on his collarbone. "She and I talked a little about you."

"That, right there." Jack frowned, "Is the kind of thing that gives a guy nightmares."

"Oh, please. She respects you and still likes you very much."

"Mmmm." His skepticism was in full force.

"This morning, when I said that at the table." She scooched a tidge closer. "I did want you to say it back. I've said it a bunch of times to you, and we are married, for heaven's sake. Having a child. I was a little peeved that you haven't said it back."

"I'm - "

"Don't apologize. Don't." She shook her head against the pillow, her hand tightening on his arm. "Because after I talked with Kerry, I realized something. Anyone can say words. Just saying them doesn't make them true. It's doing things that proves how you feel about someone."

He frowned. "But - "

"Every morning since I've come back from the Hammond, you've made me breakfast. You know just how I take my toast, how I like my eggs, how green I like my bananas. You know that I hate skim milk, and that I feel guilty drinking whole, so you buy me one percent, and then you get me chocolate syrup to go in it to make it palatable. You bought different sheets when I mentioned that the last ones felt hot, you helped me run wires all over to boost the internet signal, you got this house specifically because you knew I'd like the shower and tub. You call me cabs before I realize I need one, and you pick up my dry cleaning. You changed laundry detergents four times in three weeks because their smells made me barf."

"That's all just - "

"You rub my feet when we're watching TV, and you can tell by my tone when I text message you what I want for dinner. When I can't keep my eyes open any more at night, you plug my phone in to charge because I always fall asleep before I can get to it, and I haven't filled my own car with gas in months. You water my plants. You knew which radio stations I'd like and pre-set them into my car before I'd even disembarked the Hammond. You found unscented bath bubbly stuff when I couldn't stand how the any of my old favorites smelled. When I almost lost it because my uniforms didn't fit anymore, you appeared with new ones, and the old ones simply disappeared."

"Sam - "

"And every time you open my door, or pull out my chair at a restaurant, or pack me a lunch. Each time you help me button something that I can't reach anymore, or scrub my back in the shower, you're telling me that you love me. Every massage, every kiss, every touch - I can feel it. I know it."

Jack levered himself up on his bent arm, moving until he hovered over her, his free hand at her chin, his fingers smoothing against her cheekbone. "I do, you know."

Sam nodded, smiling up at him, moving so that she was on her back, facing him. "I know."

His eyes searched her face, measuring, considering. His hand firmed on her jaw, his thumb making a lazy arc across the sensual swell of her bottom lip, until he lowered his head and tasted that fullness with his mouth. He swallowed the moan she'd made, as his hand wandered along her body, learning how her body could change in just a day, an hour, a moment. From one instant to the next, with heat and pressure.

Later, she lay tucked into him, his arms cradling her. The moon had moved on, casting an odd half-glow through the room. Gently, the curtains wafted in the window frame, carried aloft by the night breeze. Relaxed, sated, complete, Sam allowed her eyes to drift closed, aware of the weight of his hands, his arms, his body. Welcoming them. She nestled closer, breathing a little sigh. Drifting. 

"Sam?"

"Mmmm?" Barely conscious, she cracks her eyes in the sparse, silvery light falling across the bed.

A mere whisper at her ear, his breath tangling with her hair, warming her. "I love you."


End file.
